


Escaping the Here and Now

by luvscharlie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-08
Updated: 2010-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvscharlie/pseuds/luvscharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas sees it as his duty to make Dean forget</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escaping the Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Explicit   
> Notes: Originally written for Week 6 at fandom_fridays on live journal and takes place any time after 4.1 when Castiel enters the picture. The prompt for the week was "Forget about the world tonight (all that's wrong and all that's right)"-- Fall by Clay Walker

Both brothers certainly have their share of burdens to bear, but it seems to you that Dean is the one most affected these days. At least, it's Dean you notice who is unable to smile, whereas a smile or two is still left in Sam. So tonight, your focus is on forgetting… or more specifically making Dean forget. It's what you want for him most of all, to simply forget about the world tonight. Mostly, you find that you're the one who heaps those burdens upon him—Not that you necessarily mean to, but there's that whole 'angel of the lord' thing—and there's only so much of that you can be held accountable for. You know, the folks upstairs should be taking a bit of the responsibility. Yet, it's you that feels guilty, you that sees the agony in his face and hopes that the touch of your fingers might smooth out those worry lines before they etch too deeply into his skin. You think it would be a shame to see his perfect skin marred in such a way.

You hope that he might take pleasure in the feel of your hands upon his skin—a small pleasure, perhaps, but the only one you can offer him. You cannot fix the problems that weigh so heavily upon his shoulders… as much as you'd like to, those are beyond your control. But small pleasures, fingertips over a hard muscled chest, dragging down a flat stomach, tugging at buttons that yield greater rewards—you can do that—and gladly.

You think that perhaps if his jeans weren't so tightly molded to his skin, they might come off more quickly, but then if they were loose they might not afford you such a pleasant view of his ass during the daylight hours… so you're willing to overlook the inconvenience… as the rewards far outweigh the hindrances.

You smile as Dean's hips lift to accommodate your efforts. It's not so much that you want to smile even, but more that you want to see your smile returned. To see the quirk of his mouth as the corner twists up into a crooked grin. He doesn't smile all that often these days, and though you can't blame him—there's not much to smile about—it's a shame that such a beautiful mouth should frown so often. You want to hold his stare, and you do, as your lips close around his cock, hard and swollen as your hand grasps him at the base. Dean's hips arch up into the warmth of your mouth as you twist your lips around the head of his cock and pull him into you. Your lips move up and back down, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible, and his eyes refuse to stay open any longer. They close in ecstasy, soft sighs escaping past his perfect lips, and you know that the last thing Dean is thinking of is the world outside. You've done what you set out to accomplish.

Dean's sighs turn quickly to moans and those sounds sustain you, the feel of his hardness pushing between your lips drives you wild… or as wild as you ever get. In the darkness Dean whispers your name as he begins to match the rhythm of his hips with the pace you have set with your mouth, digging his fingers into your hair as your tongue circles the head of his cock in the way you know pleases him most.

You grip his hips, taking away the control he seeks to claim, pressing him hard into the mattress as your tongue drives him to the brink. You cup his balls and the gentle kneading of your fingers combined with the exquisite torture of your tongue on his cock sends him over the edge of release… and, sadly, plummeting back down into the here and now far too quickly.

But for Dean, for at least a few moments, all that was both right and wrong in the world ceased to matter—all that mattered was escaping the here and now beneath the feel of your fingers and the warmth of your tongue. A mission successfully accomplished… you wish you could offer him a forever peace, but for now, you give what you can and he seems grateful for it.


End file.
